


It's Too Early For This

by TheNarcolepticOne



Series: DailyUSUK [4]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Gen, hotdogs, shitposting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-07 01:37:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15207989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNarcolepticOne/pseuds/TheNarcolepticOne
Summary: Alfred wants to show Arthur a magic trick. Except he's not the type to admit defeat.





	It's Too Early For This

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a conversation I had with Jack ([Tumblr](https://aph-england-official.tumblr.com/)) when we first met. I didn't think this would be the story to get me back into the motions of writing but lots of things happen spontaneously.

“Hey, Arthur. Hey hey, Arthur.”

“Alfred F. Jones, I swear to God, you better be dying.”

Arthur was seated in their shared, lavish living room; Alfred’s glasses propped upon his nose (they shared prescriptions, which weren’t very strong) and eyebrows furrowed in concentration at the task in front of him. Alfred’s favorite bomber jacket was royally draped on his knees, with Arthur holding one sleeve up in order to fix the damn thing after the other had left it at the hands of his cats earlier that evening. The underarm stitch had been ruined, and Arthur had barely made time within the week to decide to fix it. Even if Alfred didn’t need it now.

Arthur didn’t take his eyes off the needle and thimbles as he continued to mend it anyway.

“Arthur, seriously, come over here before I bring food all the way to the living room.”

“ _Alright, alright_.” Arthur conceded, sighing as he quickly snipped the last of the final knots and donned the gigantic thing. He set his glasses down, hoping to at least look presentable beyond his tank top and shorts. It wasn’t very reasonable to wear the jacket anyway, as it was almost a melting 90F on the thermostat (they had no air conditioning), but Arthur wasn’t really the kind of man to go about the house without covering his embarrassing freckles on his collar and shoulders where people could knock on the door and see them immediately.

“What is it?” Arthur finally said, eventually making his way into the direction of his voice: the kitchen.

Alfred was at the dining table, grinning wildly as right in front of him was an unattended hotdog sitting innocently on a platter. Arthur rose an eyebrow at Alfred.

“Betcha I can down throat this thing,” Alfred hummed. “Ten seconds flat.”

“Alfred, did you really just bother me just so that you could show me something like that? That’s highly... improbable.”

Alfred winked at him, giving the Arthur finger guns.

“You didn’t say impossible. And you fixed my jacket! Nice!”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Get on with it, Alfred. I need to shower.”

“Aight, aight, cool, cool,” Alfred cleared his throat, adjusting his position at the dinner table with his feet planted upon the floor and his back straight. “The trick to this is that you’re supposed to think of it like sword swallowing. Except instead of a blade, it’s a hotdog.”

Arthur took a seat right at the table across from him, rubbing his eyes. “Of course. But if you choke, I’m not coming over to help.”

“No, I won’t! Just watch!” Alfred dismissed, opening his mouth wide. “Wha.. two… thre--HCK!”

                                                  

Alfred’s eyes went wide, mouth clogged as he attempted to straighten his neck in order to continue swallowing for whatever goddamn reason. Arthur watched him disinterestedly.

“Alfred.”

“HRERGK!” Alfred held up a finger, still attempting to try and swallow it despite his face turning a light blue.

“Alfred.”

“AHRHG.”

“ _Alfred._ ”

Arthur had enough, standing up to yank the thing out of his throat when he walked over. Alfred wheezed, hand on his chest as he went to take breaths. Arthur set the saliva-soaked hotdog back onto the plate, sitting on the table as he watched the other collect himself.

“Are you finished?”

“Ye-Yeah. I’m done.”

“Satisfied?”

“One more time, Arthur. I’ll swear I can do it, you just have to trust me.”

“You’re insane.”

“And you still said ‘improbable.’”

**Author's Note:**

> _Posted July 7, 2018_


End file.
